That I’m panting like an animal. That my hands are trembling so hard I can’t even swat away the bugs.
All I can do is watch him go. All I can do is stand in the driveway, breathing in the dust his feet have kicked up.
eighteen
Astrid reaches for me.
A man—masked, gloved, skin entirely covered—yanks her back. She clatters to the floor as if her body were ceramic. As if all she’s made of are pieces meant to break.
But she doesn’t break. She strains. She reaches.
Her face is so scrunched with the effort that the freckle under her eyebrow is difficult to see.
I’m getting farther from her. Dragged up. My legs are limp, thudding against each stair.
“I’m going to save you,” she calls.
She opens her mouth again, but this time, it isn’t her voice that pours out. It’s a sound like a bell. A sound like—
The phone. Out in the hall. My eyes shoot open.
Now there’s clacking. Ted’s fingers punishing keys.
Even with the chaos of waking, I know the dream was a memory: chapter five re-created with color and sound. I saw the red of her hair, the green of her eyes, heard the bang of each stair against my calves. My pulse is still pounding from it, my breath coming in gasps. I should be relieved to have recovered so much at once, but it only reminds me how starkly our roles have reversed. Astrid’s the one who needs saving now. I’m the one who’s supposed to strain, be strong, keep fighting even when it hurts.
My body is hot, blanketed with sunlight, and my bedside lamp is on. I don’t remember going to sleep last night. I only remember lying in the fetal position, thinking of Cooper’s arm nearly between my teeth, how I only screamed instead of bit. I never even turned on the fan in the room, and now my skin is sticky with sweat. The phone stops ringing, Ted keeps clacking, and I turn to look at the time—then jolt up.
I’ve been sleeping for more than twelve hours, and while I dreamt of her face again and again, I’ve been wasting Astrid’s time. I shower so fast the bathroom mirror doesn’t have a chance to steam. It’s only once I’m dressed again, slipping my wedding rings back on, that I remember I promised Eric I’d be better about checking in—and already, I fell asleep last night without thinking to call him at all.
When he answers the phone, I’m surprised to hear his voice.
“Hey,” I say, “I was gonna leave a voice mail. I thought you’d be at work.”
“I’m between patients,” he says. “I tried calling you before, but no one answered.”
“Oh, a little while ago?”
“No. A couple hours ago. Before my shift started.”
I must have slept right through it. Must have dreamed so deeply of Astrid that not even my husband could reach me.
“I’ve been talking to Karen,” Eric says.
“Who?”
“Jim’s wife. The private investigator? I told you yesterday I was going to pick her brain. I asked her to look into Brennan, like you wanted, and—turns out, she was able to find his tour schedule from twenty years ago.”
“Whoa,” I say. “Already?”
“Yeah, I called her on my way back to Boston. And I know I should’ve run this by you first, but I kind of… hired her? In an official capacity? And I agreed to a higher fee for her to make it a priority.” He pauses, listening to my silence. “Are you mad?”
“No,” I say.
I’m grateful, actually, for how seriously he’s taking this. I put my hand over my chest. It’s warm from the shower, or warm from the sun, or warm from loving him so much.
“Good,” he says. “It’s expensive, but I think it’s worth it, because the longer you’re there, I…” There’s a pinch in his voice, a clutch of worry and anger. “Anyway. Here’s the thing. You mentioned how Brennan would have had easy access to you. But when would he have come across Astrid?”
I drop my hand to my side.
“Oh,” I say. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Well, listen to this. Ted said Brennan was staying with you guys because of his book tour, right? So Karen looked into his event dates from 2000, and guess where he was on June 24.”
My breath catches. Eric waits for me to respond, and when I don’t, he fills the space I’ve left for him.
“A store called Books & Birds,” he says. “In Foster, New Hampshire.”
An electric jolt surges through me, and my mouth hangs open. Jaw